


Skinemax

by animehead



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animehead/pseuds/animehead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With what they’re watching, it was bound to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skinemax

Kageyama toys with the tassels at the ends of the decorative pillow resting against the futon. The fabric is unsightly, bold and bright, loud and distressing, much like the person sitting at the opposite end of the futon. It’s late, much too late for them to both be awake and alert, staring at the television screen, eyes glued to image of full hips and bouncing breasts.

 

Kageyama wonders if this is something that Hinata does with other people as well. If he tries hard enough, he can easily picture someone like Tanaka or Nishinoya pressed against the couch, eyes wide, drooling at what could only be described as softcore pornography. One of those channels that shows series and movies during the day, and nude women at night.

 

Tanaka and Nishinoya would be foolish enough to believe that those strategically placed sheets that prevent you from seeing anything below the actor’s waist wasn’t done intentionally. They’d groan and gasp, and wouldn’t even notice that although the actress is straddling her counterpart, the angle of her hips makes it pretty much impossible for his cock to actually be inside of her.

 

Of course they’d fall for it.

 

And apparently, so would Hinata.

 

To his credit, Kageyama tries not to look. But when trying becomes too much of an effort, he gives in and manages to discreetly watch Hinata for a few seconds. From the looks of things, Hinata thinks what they’re watching is real. Kageyama is tempted to explain to him that the couple isn’t really having sex, but he doubts Hinata would even hear him, let alone believe him.

 

He blames it on instinct when he catches movement against Hinata’s thigh. Calloused fingers gliding along flannel pajama bottoms. They tug at the fabric resting against his skin, thumb creeping upward, making its way slowly toward the bulge that Kageyama isn’t supposed to see.

 

Kageyama is actually thankful that Hinata isn’t paying any attention to him. It makes watching him easier. He’s mesmerized by the way Hinata’s palm massages the bulge, fingers curling in every now and then to squeeze, and then release. He wonders if Hinata would notice if he mimicked him, wonders if it would be weird if they did the same thing at the same time.

 

Kageyama slowly moves his gaze upward, eyes traveling along the dark gray t-shirt covering Hinata’s torso. He lets his gaze settle on Hinata’s neck for a moment, strands of wild, fiery hair contrasting against pale skin. Kageyama finds himself wondering how Hinata would react if he touched the skin just below his earlobe, wonders what his response would be if he kissed it, bit it.

 

To say that the shift of soft brown eyes in his direction is startling is a total understatement. It’s sudden and unexpected, and Kagayama directs his own gaze toward the television and hopes that Hinata is too dumb to realize that Kageyama had been watching him. The scene on the television still does nothing for him, but the outline of his own cock, hard and pressing against his thigh pretty much confirms something that he’s been denying to himself for weeks.

 

He should probably start wearing underwear during these sleepovers from now on.

 

“You want to keep watching?” Hinata asks.

 

It takes Kageyama a moment to answer because the whispered huskiness of Hinata’s voice is something that he’s never heard before. In all honesty, if Hinata is asking him about the movie, then hell no, he doesn’t want to keep watching. It’s pointless, and probably one of the least arousing things he’s ever seen. But if he’s asking Kageyama if he wants to keep watching Hinata grope himself, then yes. He’s actually pretty interested to see how far that’s going to go.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Kageyama answers, because he supposes that it really doesn’t. He should probably just leave well enough alone, but the words are tumbling from his mouth before he even has the chance to really think about what he’s saying. “If you can even see it, that is. You’re kind of far away.” He mentally repeats what he just said, and wonders if it sounds too suggestive. He should probably fix that in case Hinata gets the wrong idea. Not that he doesn’twant Hinata to get the wrong idea. He does. He just doesn’t want it to seem like he wants Hinata to get the wrong idea. “From the t.v,” Kageyama adds. “You’re kind of far away from it.”

 

Hinata doesn’t reply, and Kageyama thinks that he’s just successfully made things weird. Well, weirder than watching fake porn with your friend and teammate could possibly be.. But he’s pleasantly surprised when Hinata scoots his way down the futon until the two of them are sitting side by side, thigh by thigh, close enough to smell the lingering scent of each other’s body wash.

 

“It’s okay, right?” There’s a pink blush staining Hinata’s cheeks as he raises his hand from his lap to show off the tent in his pants. The excitement Kageyama feels from staring down at Hinata’s crotch gives him a lump in his throat that could probably rival the one in Hinata’s pajama bottoms. He nods because he doesn’t think he could vocalize just how okay he thinks it is.

 

Hinata smiles, cute and nervous, and goes back to watching the movie. Kageyama tries to do the same, but he can’t take his eyes off of Hinata’s lap. It’s as if something as simple as a nod of confirmation was enough to make him feel that it was completely normal to fondle himself beneath his pajama bottoms while Kageyama was sitting right next to him.

 

Kageyama doesn’t give a crap about the movie, and the more Hinata touches himself, the more aroused and frustrated Kageyama becomes. It’s no longer enough to see the imprint of Hinata’s hand pressing against his pants. Kageyama wants to see it for himself, wants to watch how Hinata pleasures himself, wants to see fingers against sensitive skin, wants to hear much more than those quiet intakes of breath.

 

It’s a combination of arousal, curiosity, and insanity that convinces Kageyama that it’s okay to reach over and slide his hand inside Hinata’s pants. The result is a surprised gasp from Hinata, and a slight arch of his back. He doesn’t try to stop Kageyama, doesn’t even ask Kageyama what he’s doing when long fingers wrap themselves around Hinata’s cock and gingerly begin to stroke.

 

Hinata’s an idiot, so he watches with curious eyes when Kageyama tugs at his pants, so that he can both feel and see what he’s doing. He imagines that this is what new surgeons feel like, eyes observing him, carefully scrutinizing every move he makes.

 

“Touch mine, too,” Kageyama says, because sitting there jerking Hinata off while he watches is a lot more unnerving than he expected it to be.

 

“How?”

 

Kageyama shrugs because he doesn’t really have the answer to that. “Just…” He uses his free hand to pull down his own pants, exposing himself, cock jutting out from it cotton confines. The shocked expression on Hinata’s face causes him to smirk.

 

Hinata glares. “It’s not that much bigger than mine,” he mutters self-consciously.

 

“Stop looking at it and touch it, moron.”

 

A sound slips from his mouth that he doesn’t mean to make. Hinata’s fingers are a nice combination of soft and rough, and they feel amazing pressed against Kageyama’s cock. Unlike Hinata, he doesn’t watch as Hinata touches him. It’s practially impossible to keep his eyes open, so he closes them. Lips parted, free hand gliding back and forth against the futon while the other one attempts to fall into the same rhythm of Hinata’s hand movements.

 

There’s a short stretch of time where they do nothing but touch each other. Backs nestled against soft fabric, hands clumsily pumping and caressing. They inhale through their noses, and exhale through the mouths, the sound of fake moaning on the television screen drowned out by soft grunts and whimpers.

 

Kageyama is the first to open his eyes, and he stares at Hinata’s lips, pursed together, and slightly slick from saliva.. It’s like an outerbody experience when he leans over, like someone is controlling him, pulling him forward until his lips are smashing against Hinata’s.

 

There’s a few brief seconds of shock written all over Hinata’s face, and Kageyama’s heart pounds in his chest. He knows he should apologize, but when he opens his mouth, Hinata slips his tongue between his lips, and Kageyama forgets what he was going to apologize for.

 

As far as kisses go, it’s sloppy and inexperienced. Too much teeth and even more tongue, and after a few seconds they both feel more like they’re suffocating than making out. It’s Hinata’s bright idea to wonder aloud how it would feel if they rubbed their cocks together, and after straddling Kageyama’s lap and grinding down against him, Kageyama decides that maybe Hinata is a genius after all.

 

Kageyama can’t describe the pleasure he feels from having Hinata’s cock glide back and forth against his own. And when he raises his hand, and wraps long fingers around both of their erections, he wonders why no one ever told him about this. Surely, people knew about it. He’d bet money that the Captain and Sugawara knew.

 

After a while, Kageyama stops thinking and allows himself to focus on nothing but feeling. Puffs of Hinata’s breath fan against his lips like an electric heater. Each moan that tears its way from Hinata’s mouth is louder than the last, and Kageyama finds himself increases the pace of his hand, wanting to know what it’ll sound like when Hinata comes, wanting to be the cause of him crying out and shuddering against him.

 

He doesn’t have to wait too long.

 

The noise Hinata makes is ridiculous. A loud gasp, a high pitched squeal, and something that reminds Kageyama of a mewling kitten. As absurd as those sounds are, they excite Kageyama more than anything he’s ever heard. Combine that with the gush of sticky warmth rolling down his cock, and it’s no wonder that he cries out and buries his face in Hinata’s neck, toes curling, and calves tightening as he shudders through his release.

 

Neither of them pays much attention to the time. They simply sit there, breathing against each other, ignoring the mess they’ve made. Later on they’ll have to deal with what this means, and whether or not they should pretend it didn’t happen. But for now, the warmth of each other’s body is welcomed, and the cooling stickiness practically gluing them together is really only a minor discomfort.

 


End file.
